


Permanently blue for you

by allofspace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofspace/pseuds/allofspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek saves Stiles. Stiles is determined to get more hugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles never really thought he had claustrophobia, but that was before he was trapped in this tiny coffin-like chamber. He didn’t even know which way was up, or out, or how he even got where he is. He had woken up here, and the only reason he hasn’t had a panic attack yet is because the more logical part of his brain knows he could run out of oxygen if he lets that happen. Instead he tries to think about how he got here. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time? He remembers running, his leg muscles feel sore from the memory, definitely lots of running. He tells himself not to think about where he could be right now and how screwed he is. It’s pitch black, but he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on what brought him here. Of course, it was some dumbass plan to save Scott, his dumbass werewolf best friend. He should really consider giving that title to someone else.

Right. Running. He was running away, through the forest, away from Derek’s house. Right, Derek. The other pack. Suddenly everything rushed back into Stiles’ memory crystal clear. Another pack wanted to claim Beacon Hills as their territory. Ya right, like his pack would stand for that. But they’d been surrounded. The other pack closing in on them at Derek’s house. They’d split up into pairs. One werewolf per human. Scott of course was glued to Allison, Jackson with Lydia, and as always Stiles was left with the sourwolf. Except, somehow they’d gotten separated, and oh right, the running. As if running had helped; the last thing he remembers is accompanied by a dull aching in his skull. He’d been hit over the head with… something… something really hard. And now he was here, and what the fuck!? How long has it been? Did anyone even know where he was? Or that he was even missing? What if the rest of them were all in trouble too? What if he was just gonna die in… wherever the hell he was, and the rest of his friends – his pack – were lying dead in the forest somewhere. What if he never got to see any of them ever again?

No, stop. Stiles wouldn’t let himself think that way, he couldn’t. But he also couldn’t lay here waiting like a damsel in distress. He needed to find a way out and – wait, what was that? Stiles thought he had heard something, maybe it was his overactive imagination – not surprising with all the stress he’s battling at the moment. But there it was again – dirt fell on his face from somewhere as the ground around him shook. 

Stiles held still, trying to figure out what this could mean. Was he underground somewhere? That would really explain the dirt – oh god, there’s probably bugs crawling all around him and – he really can not be thinking about that right now. Then he heard muffled groaning and creaking, then wood cracking and suddenly – light. Moonlight lit up Stiles’ world and he gasped for the fresh crisp air that was now attacking his lungs. He was still a bit disoriented as two hands clutched his shirt and brought him out of the less-than-coffin-sized hole hidden under floorboards. The first thing he realized was Derek, his strong hands still clutched in his shirt. His ADD kicked in for a second as he let his head loll and take in his surroundings. They were now standing in some dilapidated house that was not the Hale house. Then his gaze went right back to Derek.

“Derek!”

“Stiles.” Derek spoke like he wanted to sound calm, but Stiles could see something else betrayed in his face. Was that… worry? Derek’s eyebrows were usually furrowed – but most of the time it was out of anger. This was different. Derek had been worried about him. 

Stiles was maybe a bit caught up in the moment, and the whole just being saved thing. Derek still had his fists clenched tight in Stiles’ shirt and Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek stood rigid for a split second, until he let go of the front of Stiles’s shirt and wrapped the younger boy up in a tight bear hug – wolf hug? Did wolfs hug? Stiles had no idea but – holy crap. Stiles was hugging Derek? Derek was definitely hugging him back, gripping him for his dear life. When they both seemed to realize this was sort of unchartered territory between them, and up until now Stiles was pretty sure he was terrified of Derek, they loosened their grip on each other and slowly drifted apart. Stiles ran an awkward hand over his head.

“Well, uh, thanks for saving me. Wow, I was sure I was gonna die from suffocation soon.”

“Ya. No problem.” Derek’s face was completely masked again, void of emotion. 

Stiles coughed, not knowing how to fill the awkward silence. He looked down at his feet. He had just hugged Mr. Sour Wolf, and the guy had hugged him back. Mr. I-don’t-care-about-anyone-but-myself. Stiles started to find the humour in it, or maybe it was the stupid churning feeling in his stomach that was causing him to fight a ridiculous grin from spreading on his face. He glanced up at Derek and swore he could see Derek trying to fight a smile too. Stiles thought, maybe for once, it wasn’t his imagination, and that he really did just see the corners of Derek’s mouth flinch upward and the quick biting of his cheeks. 

“C’mon let’s go, I guess we better inform the pack you didn’t die of suffocation.”

Derek playfully hit Stiles on the arm and all Stiles could think about was how to instigate his plan to make this whole wolf hug thing a more common habit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles starts to do research... for science of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this just after Season 1 so a lot has changed in canon.

“So what exactly happened anyway? Is the other pack gone? Is everyone else alright? C’mon fill me in. How long has it even been!?”

Derek just gave Stiles a look that made Stiles shut up quickly. 

Apparently everyone else had done just fine holding their own, which made Stiles feel like a bit of an idiot for being the damsel in distress after all. Derek said he noticed two of the other pack’s members missing, and so was Stiles. 

“I finished the one I was dealing with, and got Scott to help me try and pick up your scent. We split up and I was able to track you here. When I got closer I could hear your heart beating and found the shoddy workmanship of the floor. They must have stuffed you in there and nailed it shut quickly.” Derek’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. Stiles pretended not to notice. 

“Wow. Creepy.” Stiles’ skin crawled thinking about that hole in the ground again.

~*~

It wasn’t until a few days later, after things had returned to relatively normal, that Scott ended up recounting to Stiles the events that he had missed. Scott’s stories were much more embellished than anything Derek would ever tell him, but then it got to the interesting part. 

“…And then Derek just took off through the forest. It’s weird because I couldn’t find your scent anywhere.” Scott looked thoughtful.

“Maybe he’s just got a better nose than you, you know, more experience and stuff.”

Scott was gazing off a bit into space. “No, it’s not that. I can’t really explain it, but it was just weird. I don’t know, I mean… this is gonna sound weird, but Allison’s scent is strongest to me, you know? I can smell her from crazy far away. Further than anyone else.”

“That’s not all that surprising Scott, you’re kind of like a love-sick puppy with her.”

“Ya, but I mean… I don’t know, I guess some people can just have stronger scents to some werewolves.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Sometimes he and Scott were right on the same wavelength, practically reading each other’s minds. But then there were times like these when he had no idea where Scott’s train of thought was even going. Derek probably just had better detective skills than Scott. 

~*~

Stiles didn’t forget about that hug, even though it didn’t really change anything. Derek basically acted like it never happened, and no one else had witnessed it, but Stiles felt like something had shifted. And if his heart stuttered when he thought about it, or if he had an extra bounce in his step when he formulated his cunning plans, well that was just one of the mysteries of life. 

Stiles’ list of way to get another Derek hug:  
-have Derek save you from life or death situation  
-save Derek from a life or death situation  
-call for a group hug, use “pack bonding” as excuse  
-bake favourite cookies?

Okay, so it wasn’t the best list. And it was getting a bit desperate towards the end, and Stiles wasn’t going to dwell too hard on wondering why he was dead set on more Derek hugs anyway. He told himself it was because he wanted to prove to everyone that Derek was a big softy. But then again, he hadn’t even told anyone about the hug. It felt like more of a private moment. He then convinced himself that it was to decrease the amount of time Derek spent angrily pushing him up against walls. But that only made Stiles add “attack with hug next time pushed against a wall” to his list. 

Stiles decided more research needed to be done. He could always solve problems with research. At pack meetings, Stiles started testing where exactly his limits lay with Derek. He noted how close he could stand without getting a glare from Derek, or if he could pat Derek on the arm or the back. That usually got him low growls and definite threat-glares. But Derek’s “scary” side didn’t seem so intimidating to Stiles anymore. Of course he would always be a bit afraid of Derek – hell, the guy could rip his throat out in a second if he ever felt so inclined. But that was the thing; Stiles didn’t think Derek would ever feel inclined to do such a thing. Besides, ever since Derek saved him from the creepy holy-in-the-floor, he hadn’t threatened Stiles once. Maybe an actual near-death experience made Derek realize how important Stiles is to their pack. At any rate, Stiles only got death-glares now and not threats… and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t take advantage of that. 

It wasn’t until another week later that Stiles noticed something else change. He probably wouldn’t have noticed at all if he hadn’t been observing Derek so closely for his, um, “research.” Because it was all in the name of science, of course. But Stiles was becoming less and less the victim of Derek’s death-glares and more just the cause of them. 

The first time Stiles actually noticed was on Tuesday. Jackson was still new at the whole wolf thing and Stiles may have made an off-hand comment about how even Scott had made better progress when he was learning the ways of the wolf by himself. Stiles sometimes forgot that Jackson was still a total douche-bag and that they weren’t really the best of friends. His comment had earned him a fist bunched in his shirt and a deep-growl, but before anything else happened, Derek’s alpha-growl and red eyes caused Jackson to back down immediately. 

Stiles wouldn’t have thought about this too much, Derek loved showing off his Alpha-ness to keep Jackson in check. But on Thursday, they were all at Derek’s house and Stiles and Scott got into a bit of a wrestling match. Not quite fair, since Scott was a freaking werewolf and all. But old habits die hard and Stiles ended up on his back, pinned by Scott. They were both laughing and Stiles was tapping out. When he got up, Scott had stopped laughing and was already walking away with his proverbial tail between his legs. Stiles only caught the end of the glare Derek had chased Scott away with. That made Stiles really start to wonder. 

His research definitely just got a lot more interesting. So instead of seeing what happened with proximity to Derek, he tested what Derek did with his proximity to other people. It was pretty much the same with everyone. The closer Stiles got to someone, the more Derek glared (sometimes even snarled) at the other person. And threatening to hurt Stiles was completely out of the question. But the pack started to avoid him more and more. He’d try to get close to gauge Derek’s reaction and they’d back away and keep their distance. 

Lydia was always the smartest in the pack (next to himself, of course). So he wasn’t really surprised Lydia was the first one to catch on, and of course she would be the one to pull him aside after class and demand they “have a chat.”

They were standing in an abandoned classroom as almost everyone was in the cafeteria for lunch by now. 

“Stop being an idiot and just talk to Derek already,” she demanded.

Stiles thought that was a bit uncalled for but ignored the insult in favour of feigning innocence. “I.. have no idea what you’re talking about Lydia.”

“Ugh. Boys,” Lydia huffed under her breath. “Look, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to see what Derek does when you get close to other people. None of the other guys have caught on, but they obviously have started avoiding you because they don’t want to get murdered by their alpha.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Derek wouldn’t murder anyone over me.”

“Like I said. Idiot. Just go talk to him!”

And on that note, Lydia exited the room leaving Stiles alone and a bit shaken up.

“What the – what even just happened?” Stiles muttered to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

He found the pack in the cafeteria and sat at the end of the table not really involving himself in the conversation. He ate slowly and just… thought. Stiles decided he had been doing research for long enough, and he really had enough data, and that maybe Lydia was right and it was time to talk to Derek about it. But Stiles felt a bit sick at the thought of confronting Derek about it. About anything really; but specifically this. What if Stiles was really just imagining it all, and what did he even want out of this? What was he trying to gain by even bringing this to Derek’s attention? By the end of the day Stiles had convinced himself he would burn his lists about Derek and delete all his Derek files and pretend none of this ever happened. 

So when Stiles somehow ended up turning the engine off, parked outside Derek Hale’s house, he was more than a bit surprised at himself. Scott had gotten a ride home with Allison, which was the usual pattern now. And Stiles had been pointedly not thinking about all of his research and what it all meant. Which lead to him definitely not driving faster than necessary to Derek’s house. It was actually pretty nice now that Derek had started renovations on it and it wasn’t just a charred pile of wood. The pack helped out with building and painting on weekends and saw the progress Derek made himself through the week, as they held pack meetings here.

Stiles felt very much not in control of his body as he marched up to the large door with the intimidating knocker. Who even had a knocker on the door these days? He was going to have to talk to Derek about keeping with the times and maybe getting a doorbell installed. And making sure it was the regular kind of doorbell and not one that played some creepy music you’d find in a cheesy horror flick. He finally found himself hesitating as he started to reach for the knocker. He really had no idea what he was doing. Luckily (or maybe unluckily) Derek opened the door before Stiles even had a chance to change his mind.

Stiles just stood there for a moment with his mouth open, mostly forgetting why he was there in the first place. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Derek was topless and was glistening as if he had been in the middle of a workout. Which, really, he probably was since no one could be that ripped without doing chin-ups with every spare minute they had. 

“Stiles,” was all Derek said. There was amusement there and it tugged at his lips. Derek Hale was actually smirking at him. 

And then came the word-vomit. 

“So Scott can smell Allison from like, really far away. That’s interesting isn’t it? How Scott has a sense of smell almost specifically for Allison. You know what else is weird, and definitely unrelated? How you were the only one would could pick up my scent that day. That’s just so weird and definitely unrelated, right? Right. Anyway, I see I have totally interrupted you in the middle of something. A workout maybe? You do that a lot, don’t you? Not that I pay particular attention to what activities you do with your free time. Is glaring an activity? Because if glaring was in the Olympics you’d probably have won like 6 gold medals by now. I’m actually just gonna go. I totally just remembered that I left the oven on? And dad will totally kill me if he gets home and the kitchen is on fire or something.”

“Stiles…” Derek’s tone was more annoyed now. He rolled his eyes and stepped backward, leaving room for Stiles to enter. “Get in here, now.”

Stiles was just thankful that his rambling had finally ended and he stepped into the house. Derek shut the door behind him. The house looked happy and lived in. The rumpled couch in front of the TV that was rarely ever turned on, mostly there for show; book shelves that used to be covered in dust now clean and used often. Stiles took a deep breath – it smelled like home and Stiles tried not to figure out what that meant. He turned around to face Derek, who was staring at the floor. Which was odd for Derek, as he only did that when he didn’t want to talk about something. Which meant that there was something to be talked about. 

“How much do you know? About Werewolves, I mean, and scents.”

It probably would have been a good idea to do research on that after Scott had mentioned it, actually. But he had just brushed it off as another of Scott’s useless comments. 

“Uh. Not a whole lot, really. Just that thing that Scott said mostly.”

“Well... he’s right. We have… really good noses anyway. But there are some people… that we can smell better. Almost like their scent is imprinted on us, we don’t even have a choice in the matter really.”

Stiles didn’t really know what Derek was getting it. Was the scent-imprinting thing just random and it was a coincidence that Scott had also happened to fall in love with Allison?

Before Stiles got a chance to voice any of his questions, Derek continued. He also started walking toward Stiles, who instinctively started to move back. 

“It doesn’t happen to all of us, either. My mom used to say it only happened to the lucky ones. It happened to her and my dad, you know? Their scents were imprinted on each other.”

Stiles’s legs hit the arm of the couch. Derek stopped a few feet away from him. Derek had never really opened up about his family before. Stiles wasn’t sure what to feel. It sounded nice, what his parents had, but also sad that they lost it, and he was still confused with what all this meant. 

“Your scent, Stiles,” Derek took a step forward. “Is imprinted on me.” He took another step forward. Stiles didn’t really have anywhere else to go. “I can smell you from so far away.” Derek was close enough to touch now. “But from close up –“ Derek was in his personal space now. 

Stiles was frozen, he couldn’t move. Derek ducked his face down and trailed his nose up Stiles’ collarbone. Stiles felt his breath hitch and his heart jump. “It’s intoxicating,” Derek finally finished. His mouth so close to Stiles’s ear. They stood frozen like that for an eternity. Derek’s hands were bunched in Stiles’s shirt and his own arms hung uselessly at his sides. He felt Derek’s hot breath against his neck and he realized he was panting. 

Derek was the next to speak again. Stiles didn’t think he could form words even if he knew what to say. 

“I can hear your heart beat, you know.”

Stiles just nodded.

“I can hear it all the time. I can hear it skip a beat when I look at you sometimes. I could hear it pounding from under the floorboards, Stiles. It was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever experienced.”

And Stiles finally realized that Derek was kind of bearing his heart here and that he was doing nothing in return. Derek had never been this open about anything. Derek Hale was an emotionally constipated sourwolf. Yet for some reason, here he was clinging to Stiles telling him so much. Stiles could finally move his arms, and he wrapped them tightly around Derek. He’d finally gotten another Derek hug after all. And this one topped the other one by 100% at least. 

“It’s okay. I’m fine now. You saved me.”

Stiles barely finished talking when Derek’s mouth covered his. It was warm and soft and hot. Stiles was only shocked for a second before he tightened his hold around Derek’s neck and slid his tongue past Derek’s lips. It was a slow and long kiss. It felt like years before they finally separated enough to breathe. They were both panting, still sharing breaths, neither letting go of the other. 

Derek made a sound almost like a laugh.

“You know you drive me insane, right?”

“Not at all. I know no such thing.”

“Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been up to something these past weeks. Not that I know exactly what, but definitely something. You’ve been doing it on purpose. Driving me insane, I mean.”

“Who, me? I would never,” Stiles scoffed in mock-offense. Then his eyes trailed down from Derek’s face to the bare chest and he became a bit more serious. He leaned in and licked a line up Derek’s collarbone. Derek’s hands were now gripping the couch tightly and he let out a heavy breath. 

“Stiles… we can’t,” Derek hissed.

“Says who?” Stiles smirked and fell backwards over the arm of the couch, onto the cushions. His legs were still hanging over the edge and he used the to pull a stubborn Derek closer. Derek’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating on breathing. Stiles felt a rush that he had such an effect on Derek and felt his heart increase at the thought just a moment before Derek’s eyes flew open again.

“Ugh,” groaned Derek. “You are seriously going to be the death of me.”

Stiles took that as a win and stretched his arms above his head. Derek’s eyes were immediately drawn to the pale skin that was now bare near the waistline of Stiles’ jeans. Derek moved his hands up Stiles’ thighs and then to the skin. He moved the shirt up a bit more then leaned down and Stiles’ breath caught in his throat as Derek sucked marks onto his skin there. 

“Not that I don’t think your possessiveness is like, crazy hot,” Stiles huffed out. “But you totally need to do something about that jealousy problem.”

“You’re,” Derek growled between kisses. “Mine.”

Stiles bit his lip and nodded in agreement. 

“I also would like to have at least some friends though. Just… lay off with the death glares for a bit maybe?” Stiles looked down his body to see Derek staring back at him.

Derek stood up and then pulled Stiles up as well. 

“I think I can manage that,” Derek said in a hushed voice as he sucked on skin on Stiles’ neck. “They’ll all know you’re mine after tonight anyway.”

Stiles shuddered at the implications in Derek’s voice. Derek found Stiles’ lips again and they kissed until they were out of breath. “Upstairs. Now,” he breathed out.

Stiles made a note to himself in his head: Derek kisses were way better than Derek hugs.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bruises by Chairlift  
> Written just after Season 1.


End file.
